


Do I Wanna Know?

by ArcaneHackist



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Choking, Devilish Group Chat, Disabled Character, I may actually continue this, M/M, Massage, Massage with happy ending, Old Injury, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, This started as crack but got super long, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Wings, based on a group chat, dan knows, i promise i put actual effort into this they’re not fucking for no reason, previous injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26660401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneHackist/pseuds/ArcaneHackist
Summary: It starts with a male stripper.No, seriously. With a male stripper, from Lucifer, on Michael’s doorstep.(Based on “The Devilish GC” on tumblr, not needed to understand this as it’s all explained)
Relationships: Dan Espinoza/Michael Demiurgos, Michael/Dan Espinoza
Comments: 38
Kudos: 70





	1. On a Whim

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this started out as a crack ship and became a lot more. Yes, I named this after an Arctic Monkeys song. 
> 
> Thank you to the Devilish GC members and the Fili Hircus discord for being my enablers, as always

It starts with a male stripper.

No, seriously. With a male stripper, from Lucifer, on Michael’s doorstep. His name is Sebastian, and he’s two inches shorter than Michael but built like a brick shithouse. 

The white t-shirt he’s wearing strains over his chest, plus suspenders of all things, and Michael realizes as his eyes trail downward that the man is supposed to be dressed as a fireman. Well, when an opportunity presents itself.

He fires off a quick message to the group chat before he invites the guy in, something like “how did you find out my address that quickly. and which one of you sent me a male stripper.”

The answer of course is unanimously Lucifer, because who the actual Hell else would do that, and Sebastian says something along the lines of “he told me to tell you to loosen up” but Michael isn’t really listening. 

He’s slept with humans before, yes, because that’s just the way to go. It’s sex or violence, and though Michael prefers the latter, the former can be easier. And as tempting as the prospect of wasting his twin’s money and sending poor Sebastian away is, he actually was kind of bored.

———————

One thing leads to another, and Michael thanks Lucifer in the group chat for the lovely night just to piss him off. It likely would work, but his brother’s off running errands right now. Figures. 

Eve makes a lewd joke about bottoming, so he turns his phone off for a while and settles in to prune his bonsai trees for a few hours just to see what will happen. By the time he comes back there’s around thirty messages, and he kicks his feet up to read them for a bit.

It’s mostly Dan, defending Michael’s honor, which is positively adorable. He’s an archangel, and can defend himself, even when it comes to the topic of taking it up the ass. 

A “what’s it to you” and a few other nonchalant comebacks later, he once again sets his phone down to clean his apartment. There are black feathers scattered everywhere, and they’re becoming an eyesore. Damn molting season.

When he finally tosses the last one into the trash can in the kitchen, his cell phone is practically overheating. Eve and Dan are having a discussion about the sexualities of everyone in the chat, which seems to come up with the verdict of “everyone is basically bisexual except Dan and Linda.” Maze weighs in once or twice, as expected.

Then, as Michael is surprised to read, Dan comes out of the “closet” as Eve puts it, and joins the ranks of the group sporting pink blue and purple. Huh.

The discussion continues, and as most conversations do, turns back to Lucifer. Through the slip of his fingers Dan phrases something oddly, and Eve pounces on it immediately.

Right. Because if things weren’t already complicated enough, Dan’s just admitted that yeah, he maybe does find Lucifer attractive. 

Eve refers to Michael as a “consolation prize” as a joke, which has Dan pretending briefly that he has to leave, before Michael decides enough is enough and contributes to the conversation. 

“i’m open” he types, and briefly considers sending a shrugging emoticon before remembering he’s sworn off anything emote-ish when texting. Humans gave up pictograms for a reason, after all. And the only way to really convey his deadpan sarcastic tone is text with no caps. 

Eve sends her surprise, and Dan casually mentions a time and direct messages Michael his address. As if this night couldn’t get any weirder. 

They do talk about his fear “mojo” for a bit (oh how he hates that word for it) and Dan admits he wants to see if he can resist it like he tried to Azrael’s blade.

The group chat, understandably, sits in silence for a few hours until someone says something like “what the fuck just happened,” and Michael wishes he could see Lucifer’s face when he eventually does read these. 

Maybe he’ll bribe someone to take a picture for him.

In any case, he does have to get dressed, now that his companion for tonight actually has eyes. He does still prefer his cacti to humans in that way— they don’t care if you choose to walk around in just socks.

———————

Michael arrives to Dan’s house at 8:59 sharp, and waits until the clock ticks over to 9:00 to knock. At least he’s always on time, unlike someone that shares his face. 

He’s ashamed to admit he did fuss over his appearance for a bit. The light grey turtleneck, blue jacket, black pants. He even matched his socks with the color of the jacket, not that it matters. Michael chalks it up to molting season and throws on a blank expression when the door handle wiggles. 

Dan’s hair has a little more than its usual amount of product in it, and the corners of Michael’s mouth quirk up at the sight. Right. So maybe he’s not the only one.

“Come in.” Dan nods, stepping back and avoiding Michael’s eyes with single-minded purpose.

Right. He forgot. This stuff is important to humans. Which means they have to talk, and isn’t that the best realization of the day. 

“So do you want to... look me in the eyes, say the line?” Dan asks, and Michael follows him to the kitchen, where he leans against the counter and nods.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I’ll try not to tease at your fears too much, if I do get them. Permanent hourly panic attacks are a bit much to deal with, I hear.” Michael states dryly, and snorts at Dan’s horrified expression.

“I have quite the handle on myself, Daniel. I don’t do that unless I want to. Look at me.”

Blue meets brown, and Michael blinks, smiles a little. “What is it, Mister Espinoza, that you truly fear above all else?”

Silence. 

“Uh... are you doing it? I don’t feel any different.” Dan mumbles, looking worried again.

“That’s an interesting development.” Michael states, leaning forward slightly further and giving himself more leash to work with. Enough that he could probably clear a room, most humans can sense his wrong-ness when he goes this far. 

“What are you the most afraid of?” he attempts, doing his best to stare deep into Dan’s very soul.

Michael recoils, having had the wonderful experience of his ability basically hitting a brick wall. He rubs at his eyes to remedy it, and Dan stares.

“It didn’t work?” he asks, incredulous. “Lucifer could do his... thing to me. Why is this any different?” 

Michael shrugs unevenly, and Dan seems to take notice, thinking back to some texts from earlier in the week. 

“And... why does Eve make jokes about your back all the time? I know that’s an out of the blue thing to ask.” Dan mumbles, looking a little like he regrets the question as soon as it comes out of his mouth. 

Michael sighs.

“I suppose that was bound to come up tonight, either way. During the battle between the falling and the angels, one of Lucifer’s loyal lackeys speared me in the back. Eve enjoys poking fun at my crookedness because she knows she can get away with it.” he explains, and leaves off the ‘but if anyone else tried it they would not be so lucky.’

Dan nods, staring down at his hands. “I know what you came here for, and I know that is what I messaged you about, but we do sort of need to talk about this—“ and his face is flushing, red up to his ears.

Michael just laughs. “I figured. Ask me anything, but I can’t guarantee an answer.”

“Don’t lie to me either. I’m not Lucifer, but I’m pretty good at telling when people are lying. So just... answer or don’t. That work?” Dan asks.

Michael quirks an eyebrow and nods, idly itching at his scar. “Sure.”

“Okay so to start, obviously, you’ve slept with men before.” Dan mumbles, voice once again taking on that embarrassed tone.

“I have. And women, yes. Not as often as my brother, obviously.” he sniffs, and starts when Dan laughs.

“Yeah, I doubt many people can beat his record. But is there, uh... anything different? About angels, I mean.” he squints, and that red tint is back again.

Michael fluidly spreads his wings, and chuckles quietly when Dan jumps and gasps audibly. Before his eyes can linger too long on Michael’s right, though, he pulls them back in.

“Besides those, no. We’re largely built like you.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Largely.” Dan repeats, tapping at the counter and finally meeting Michael’s eyes. “This is no strings, right? No deals, no favors or whatever. We just both happen to have a free night.”

Michael, suddenly, realizes the issue here. The way Daniel had spoken in the group text, the question he’d first asked a bit ago.

“You’ve never slept with a man before, have you?” Michael observes, and Dan looks like he’s been slapped. “Don’t make that face, it’s unbecoming. This isn’t a very big deal, I’ll be good. I can recieve, if it will make you more comfortable.”

And Dan quite literally reaches up and pulls at his collar, like he’s in a cartoon and got too hot. “Was it that obvious.”

“No, not at first. Though I do recall you being the one to say we should talk about these things.” Michael chastises.

Dan looks guilty for a moment, then pulls himself together with a nod. “Yeah. But like I said. No strings right?”

Michael nods. “No obligations. Just an enjoyable night.”

“...Right. So... what do you...” It’s awkward, pathetically so, and Michael tires of watching him flounder. He steps around the counter island, gently grips Dan’s chin, and leans in to kiss him. 

He feels the surprise in the way Dan tenses against his lips, but slowly relents with a hum and opens up.

Michael kisses like he always has. Like he has all the time in the world to do it, no fever or urgency, just his tongue swiping gently against the mouth bracketing his.

Dan pushes back, though, spinning them until Michael grunts with the impact of the counter digging into his lower back. 

Dan takes the lapse in his concentration to bite Michael’s lower lip, and he groans openly, panting when he pulls back to breathe.

“You’re a good kisser.” he states, breathless, pupils blown wide. 

Michael laughs, hooks his thumbs in Dan’s belt to tug him closer and grins. “Not bad yourself.”

He’s barely finished speaking when their mouths crash together again, and before he knows it his jacket’s off his shoulders and on the floor. Not one to be outdone, and wanting this to be even, he starts at the buttons of Dan’s shirt as he starts on Michael’s. 

The toned chest it slowly reveals has heat coiling low in Michael’s stomach, and he grins as he runs his comparably pale hands across the expanse of muscle. 

“Look at you.” he coos, shamelessly groping a pectoral, and Dan once again uses his distraction against him, slipping Michael’s shirt down to his elbows and reaching up to wrap a hand around his throat.

And fuck if that isn’t just exquisite. 

“Yes.” he hisses as Dan grinds forward, searching for friction as his palm presses heavily against Michael’s windpipe.

Dan grins, watching the angel’s eyes roll back as he pushes his throat forward into his hand instead of pulling back. 

Michael’s hips hitch forward, pressing the warm brand of his interest into Dan’s thigh.

“Bedroom?” he asks, sliding his hand down from Michael’s neck to rasp his carefully trimmed nails down his chest.

Eyes half lidded, Michael nods and pushes forward to kiss him. It’s messy, now that he’s starting to come undone, settling for latching onto Dan’s collarbone as he leads them back towards his bedroom.

It’s a miracle they make it there at all, a trail of shoes, socks, shirts, and belts tripping them up on the way.

Michael falls back onto the bed, wincing a little at the jolt to his back. His legs are spread wide and hanging off the edge, eyes half lidded while he regards Dan like a particularly delicious dessert. His pants are undone, showing modest blue boxers tented underneath, and his hair’s mostly freed from its product. The brown charcoal curls at Michael’s temples.

Dan wants to eat him alive, so he does.

He bites and sucks a line down Michael’s chest, stopping to hesitantly lave his tongue over a nipple, and more confidently does it again when the angel arches beautifully below him. 

“Fuck Daniel- you’d better get on with it.” Michael huffs, and Dan almost laughs. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard any of the angels say anything worse than damn. 

“Here, hang on.” he mumbles, and quickly pulls a condom and lube out of the nighstand. Quickly, because he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up this facade of confidence. 

Just in the time it takes him to do that, Michael has impatiently slipped his pants down and kicks them away as Dan settles back in front of him. The boxers are the same shade as his jacket, Dan notes, somewhat amused.

“I can prep myself, if you’re not comfortable.” Michael offers quietly, in a way that suggests he’d call this all off if asked.

It’s sort of sweet.

“I’d like to, if that’s okay with you? I mean... it’s not that hard.” he mumbles, and Michael just smiles, turns over and bares his back to Dan. 

There’s a scar, on his right shoulder that lines up with the story he’d told. Large and gnarled. Dan doesn’t look for long, though, before he has to touch.

His broad hands map Michael’s back, taking note of the lean muscle hidden there as he drags his nails down hard.

It’s not enough to leave a mark, never will be, but the bone-deep shiver he gets in return is just as good. 

“Please.” Michael asks, just once, the word falling from his lips like a prayer just for Dan. 

He takes a deep breath and rids himself of his own pants, then tugs Michael’s boxers down his legs to reveal what’s probably the most perfect ass he’s ever seen. 

Dan wastes no time slicking up his fingers, and gives up on letting them warm when Michael squirms. He’s done this before to himself, sure, but this is a bit nerve wracking. 

The first finger goes in with nearly no resistance. Michael lets out this deep gasp and sucks in air like he’s drowning, pushing back against him just by instinct.

He slips in another, then, slightly harder, watching as the muscles in the angel’s back ripple with the effort of trying to stay still. To be good, as he’d said, and the thought of it drives Dan insane.

He forces in a third, knowing by the resistance that it has to burn, but Michael just bucks and moans beneath him like it’s everything he wants and more. 

He looks so fragile, but at the same time doesn’t bend or break beneath Dan’s hands.

“I’m ready, I swear I’m ready, come on.” he rants, voice high pitched and needy, hips hitching down into the bedspread. 

Dan flings his boxers so far they land behind his dresser.

He barely remembers to roll on the condom before he slicks himself up. In the back of his mind he knows it takes more than three fingers, he’s a step up from that, but Michael shudders beneath him and he can’t stand it. 

He hooks an arm around his hips, pulling him up so they’re even, and Michael slips a pillow under his own hips in a motion of somewhat practiced ease. 

Dan moves forward, then, ever careful as he teases with the tip and slowly starts to press forward.

Michael turns into a puddle beneath him, head dropping down into the duvet, swearing quietly.

“You’re big.” he gasps, and Dan hesitates. “Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop or I’ll kill you.” he gruffs, so Dan presses on until he’s hilted.

Fuck, it’s incredible. 

The tight, warm, wet heat, the way Michael’s entire body shudders in front of and around him. 

He doesn’t have to ask, this time— Dan moves without being told. A gentle rocking of his hips, growing more confident as he goes.

As an afterthought he tangles a hand in Michael’s hair, wrenching his head back, and he lets out a surprised but content groan at the pain of it. 

Before long Dan’s snapping forward with single-minded intent, chasing his own pleasure as much as giving Michael his. They cry out in tandem, the angel sounding just as desperate as Dan with every movement.

A bit later and Michael braces himself up with his right arm, snaking his left under to touch himself, a relieved sound falling from his mouth that Dan wants to hear again and again. 

“Gonna come.” he warns, voice hoarse and grating from the strain, but Dan doesn’t stop moving.

Doesn’t stop when Michael’s voice hits a fever pitch and he hitches forward and back between his hand and Dan’s hips, doesn’t stop until the only thing the angel can do is lie boneless and take it.

Only then does he let himself crash over— curling in on himself as he grips Michael’s hips with brusing force and snaps his hips up those few more precious times.

He takes a moment to just stand like that, knees shaking, hands braced on Michael’s lower back while he catches his breath.

Dan does pull back, after a moment, slipping off into the master bathroom to clean up a little. He comes back with a warm wet cloth, as an afterthought, and Michael obediently turns over onto his back when he sees it. Like he’s been trained. Dan laughs quietly as he starts to clean him up.

Michael’s eyes flutter shut, and he grins. “Aww, it’s warm water, too. You spoil me.”

“Shut up or it’s ice next time.” Dan grouches, and Michael goes silent for a second too long.

“Next time.” the angel repeats blankly, shrugging. “I wasn’t of the impression this would be a regular arrangement. But I wouldn’t complain.”

Dan pauses then too, hands stilling, then suddenly continues cleaning up. 

“I wouldn’t mind if it was a regular thing either.”


	2. The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael visits Dan at work, Lucifer spends his day making fake puking sounds at the penthouse.

Devilish GC, 8:00 AM

[Ella: Are we going to talk about what happened last night?? Omg.]

[Lucifer: I hate when you bring my Father into things, Miss Lopez. Whatever happened last night?]

[Eve: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT]

[Ella: When I use “omg” it means oh my gosh, Lucifer]

[Lucifer: Bloody Hell, will someone just tell me what’s going on?]

[Maze: it was great. michael offered his ass up and dan said yes. it was eve’s fault]

[Eve: I WAS MAKING A JOKE]

[Lucifer: as in...]

[Maze: your dirty mind is seriously slacking today]

[Dan: You realize I’m in this chat, right?]

[Maze: OOOO how was your night?]

[Dan: Uh, nice I guess]

[Michael: what painkillers are best for... back problems]

[Lucifer: WHAT IS GOING ON]

[Chloe: As if things weren’t already complicated enough in this friend group]

[Michael: friend???]

[Chloe: That’s fair]

[Ella: DAN HAS A SCARF ON OMG]

[Dan: Uh, yeah?]  
[Dan: Michael are you still at my apartment?]

[Michael: yes]  
[Michael: as if i’m willing to get up at 5 like you do]

[Ella: The scarf has little football team logos on it]

[Chloe: I bought that for him, he hates it]

[Dan: I don’t hate it???]

[Michael: the face you made putting in on says otherwise]

[Dan: I don’t exactly have makeup laying around!!!]

[Ella: OH MY GOSH]

[Michael: sigh]  
[Michael: when are you working until, dan]

[Dan: I’m stuck doing paperwork until I finish it. Which is to say, a long time.]

[Michael: i could help]

[Dan: Right.]

[Lucifer: I’m going to throw up.]

[Michael: my handwriting is atrocious, but]

[Dan: No, by all means, come be bored out of your skull with me]

[Michael: it’s that or go back to my apartment and spend time with my plants. they’re not very conversational]

[Ella: Aww!! What plants do you have?]

[Chloe: Wait, Michael bottoms?]

[Michael: begonia coccinea, amaryllis belladonna, impatiens walleriana, asplenium nidus, aglaonema, dracaena fragrans, howea forsteriana.....

———————

The flight to the precinct is a quick one, and he lands on the roof of the parking garage with a bit of a stumble. Curse being so uneven. His feet take him on the path without direction, and by now the officers know who he is just by watching him for more than a second. Nevermind the scar, Michael doesn’t bother hiding his crooked shoulders anymore in public. 

It’s particularly bad today, the humidity of the day slightly higher before it storms. The change in pressure irritates his body, but when it does rain it’s the opposite. The sweetness of cool raindrops on his body, soothing every ache as he chases lightning. He always flies when it rains.

Before long, he settles his jacket over the coat rack near the stairs and tugs a spare office chair to Dan’s desk. The man starts, glares up at Michael briefly, then laughs.

“Right. Forgot about the flying thing. Here.” he grins, settling a hefty folder on the only empty spot on the desk. 

Michael shoots him a wry smile, opening said folder and blinking down at a photo of a particularly nasty corpse. “Is this all?”

Dan huffs and tosses a pen towards the center of Michael’s chest, which he catches. “Finish before me and I’ll give you more. Then I’ll get to go home earlier.”

The angel nods, leaning back in the chair and settling the folder half on the desk to open it fully. Mostly unfinalized files, needing to be filled in with the missing information from the scenes. He sighs. rolls up the sleeves of his grey turtleneck, and gets to work.

———————

It’s mostly easy, and he gets away with only asking Dan a few questions before his folder is done. And another. And then another, until Dan is the one still working while Michael twiddles his thumbs.

“You weren’t kidding. I thought the Silver City was boring.” Michael states, slowly spinning his chair in a circle and scrutinizing Dan each time he comes around. 

Dan almost laughs, but barely holds it back at the sight of Michael spinning when he looks up. “The thought of heaven being boring isn’t exactly reassuring”

“Well, not for you.” Michael snorts, like it’s obvious. “You guys get to do whatever you like and live out up there. It’s run like a business behind the scenes. I got sent down a lot in the beginning to deal out justice, but now that angels aren’t super accepted anymore I just sit around.” he purposely leaves out the part about Father pitying his injury.

“So angels were accepted at some point?” Dan asks, trying to keep Michael entertained for the last few pages.

“At a groveling in the street level, yes. Rome was a wonderful place to visit, when I got to. Had a lot of good times.” he starts, and at Dan’s prompting look he continues. “They don’t make wine anymore like they did there, believe me. And I do miss bathhouses an insane amount.” 

Dan tries to imagine Michael in one of those little sauna towels, and finally does let out a laugh. “You mean like... big bathhouses of hot water and naked people? Doesn’t seem like an angelic thing.”

“Oh believe me, some... less than angelic things happened there. That’s where most of my, erm... experience is from.” he smiles a little, stopping his spinning to smirk at Dan. Unlike Lucifer, Michael blushes, from the slopes of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears.

It’s pretty damn adorable.

“Well, last couple lines...” Dan mumbles, looking down at the paper to finish it rather than be faced with the full force of his bedroom eyes.

He’s worse than Lucifer, turtleneck stretched over his chest and hair left slightly unkempt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a bit of those toned arms that he’d been admiring last night. He doesn’t know how it’s possible, but the fact that Michael cares less about his appearance makes him even more attractive.

That may just be because he likes how Michael looks with sex hair, but whatever.

He signs his name, looks up at the sky, and does a mocking sign of the cross before he slumps back in his seat with a sigh. “Thank whoever’s up there, I’m finally done.” 

Michael huffs out a laugh, standing when Dan does to help gather papers into proper files for storage. It takes the both of them to carry all of them safely, the risk of dropping them too great. 

The file room is as it always is. Absolutely deserted, and raining dust like ash in Hell. They split up briefly to put things away, and meet back up at the door to leave. But when Dan reaches for the doorknob, Michael stops him.

“Uh-“ Dan starts, and the angel shushes.

“C’mon. You don’t think I just came here for paperwork, right?” he grins, and Dan just gulps.

“At work, man?”

Wordlessly, Michael nods, and props the chair from next to the door under the doorknob. Dan, mostly just shocked by the literal angel wanting to fuck at work, lets said celestial being lead him to the secluded corner of the room.

“But what are you going to-“ he starts, and is once again silenced. Not directly by Michael, but by his actions, as he slips to his knees fluidly in front of Dan. 

He leans down, placing his good hand on Dan’s hip, and gently noses at the crotch of his jeans. More out of reflex than anything, Dan settles his hand down into those almost-black curls. Michael hums.

He kneads, then, pressing his palm against the growing erection and mercifully undoing his button and fly. Dan is straining, already more turned on than he ever has been in his life, watching as Michael slips his hardening cock out of his boxers and presses wet kisses from the base to the tip.

“You’d better be quiet.” Michael grins, smug as a cat, and Dan huffs out a surprised breath as the angel follows the path of his kisses with his tongue.

Weightless teasing touches, his fingers light as a feather as he drags them along the shaft and follows with little licks that make Dan’s toes curl. He briefly presses a kiss to the tip, and does laugh when he moans in response.

“I said quiet.” he reiterates, carefully wrapping his hand around the base before he finally has mercy and starts to sink his mouth down.

Dan grips the shelf next to him and Michael’s hair for dear life, because he doesn’t stop.

Just presses forward, even until he has to drop his hand, until Dan can feel the hot channel of his throat. It’s fucking incredible, as if he expected anything else, and the angel must not have a gag reflex to speak of because as soon as his nose taps between Dan’s hips he’s moving again.

Back and forth, those deep black eyes meeting Dan’s blue, his touch heavy as he brings up his fingers to tease the vein on the side between movements. 

Soon enough Dan can’t help but tug maybe too hard, force his hips a little too far, and is rewarded with a groan from Michael. 

Michael pulls back briefly, still smug as can be, hand moving in his mouth’s place as he looks up to speak. “You can come. I want you to.” he states, as simply as discussing the weather, then leans back in to resume at full force. 

He tongues the slit when he pulls back, squeezes the base of Dan’s dick in a vise grip, hums softly when he hits the back of his throat.

Dan settles his hand on the back of Michael’s head and forces him in close, practically hyperventilating as his orgasm crashes over him in a wave. “Oh my- shit, Michael.” he groans, and doesn’t let up on his grip until he’s finished. 

Michael pulls back then to suck in a deep breath, and... Dan wants to take a picture so damn bad.

His face is reddened all the way, lips spit-slick and swollen, hair curling now that it’s been freed from product. And, Dan belatedly notices, hard enough to pound nails in his slacks. 

“That was... yeah.” he manages, voice high and breathy, and Michael just laughs again.

“I’ll fly to your place.” the angel states, bracing himself on a shelf to stand back up. He sounds a little hoarse.

“But you haven’t-“ Dan starts, and finds that he’s not really bothered anymore by Michael interrupting him. 

“Oh, I will.” he smiles, steps back, and carefully unfurls his wings in the small space.

Dan, starting to straighten his own ruffled clothes, just nods. “I’ll meet  
you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad people wanted more of this!


	3. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael aches, and Dan soothes it. The wing kink has finally arrived!

The flight from Michael’s apartment to the precinct is a short one. A glide, really, from his balcony to the top of the parking garage. The walk down and into the bullpen gives him time to stretch and straighten his stance.

But Dan’s place? Dan’s place is a different story. Last time he was there he managed to catch a taxi out and home. He thought he could fly there no problem, but... the day is chilly. The air is dry, and he feels the bones in his shoulder creak as he lands unsteadily on the apartment balcony and stumbles to a stop. The jostling misaligns his back with a sharp pop, and he hisses, gripping the railing as he tries to force his wings back in. 

No luck. His shoulder grates as he rolls it, aching tendons tightening and numbing with the pain of just carrying the weight of his limbs. His right leg drags as he moves over to the outdoor furniture, a set of two stools and a table. And he waits.

———————

Dan slides open the balcony door with a grin, only to have it fall off his face when he studies what’s going on.

Michael is slouching low over the table, resting his head and left arm on it. His right is hanging dead at his side, as is that wing, the only one out. 

“Michael?” Dan asks tentatively, and the angel flinches. Out of it enough to not hear him coming. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Overestimated myself, it seems.” he murmurs, leaning back to sit up as best he can. He’s twisted, his right side inches higher than usual, and said side’s wing droops low enough for its primaries to bend in a painful looking way on the ground.

“I... I know it was a long time ago, I don’t know if you remember. But I did take a lot of different medical classes. Mentioned it once or twice. I could take a look?” Dan asks, and it’s enough of a tell that Michael nods immediately.

“I don’t see how you could make it worse.” he mumbles, struggling to his feet, but holding out a hand to stop Dan from helping. 

They shuffle inside like that, Michael making slow progress and Dan walking at the same speed backward. It looks to be both a spinal and shoulder issue, and he remembers seeing the scar. It looked like it was deep at one point. Probably down to the bone. But he was... otherwise occupied, at the time.

“Can you get the other wing out? It’d be better if I could see what it’s supposed to feel like. And...” he starts, but Michael’s already taking off his blazer.

It phases right through his wing. Yeah, best not to think about that one.

The turtleneck next, and with a little half-shrug Dan watches in amazement as the other half of Michael’s divinity fans out in front of him.

They really are beautiful.

“My bedroom’s got enough room for this.” Dan comments, more of a suggestion than anything. He’d call it all off if Michael asked.

Dan knows the pain just by watching him move. Michael seems to force his right side to cooperate, more than anything. Pulling on it despite the obvious effort, dragging his weight along unevenly as he follows Dan back to the bedroom.

He actually does need help to get settled, and it’s another tell that he doesn’t complain when Dan helps center him on the bed.

“I think they’re beautiful, you know.” he murmurs, pulling a heating pad out of his dresser and some almond oil from the night stand. It was a reccommendation from his doctor one of the few times he’d ever been shot, and the way it helped him work heat into his aches improved his quality of life sevenfold.

Michael laughs dryly. “They’re not. Even the Host looks at them with disgust.”

“Frankly, that makes me angry as all fuck, but I have to ask. Why?” Dan murmurs, and settles the heating pad below Michael’s right wing and wraps it a little around his ribs. 

“Wings are an extension of one’s soul. Divinity incarnate. To be marred as such? It is as disgusting as an open and weeping wound to look upon. Like being disemboweled for all to see, constantly. I am the only one to be injured this badly and irreversably.”

“Lucifer’s face.” Dan interjects, and Michael growls. It’s deep, inhuman, and makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Yes, well, that is his penance. And what does it say that he can hide it and I cannot? Our Father has all the power in the universe, and would not endeavor to fix me, as much as I used to plead for it.” He doesn’t notice the primaries quivering, but Dan does.

“...I’m going to change the subject.” he states, ever the social butterfly, and hesitates. “Can I touch them now?”

Michael nods, burying his face into Dan’s pillow just to hide it. And if the human notices that he decided to stop breathing for a bit, he doesn’t say anything as he trails his dry and slightly rough fingertips up either side of Michael’s spine. 

Gentle, light as a caress of air, really. He’s catalogueing, feeling each muscle and difference in what should be even. The scar doesn’t put him off, either, though it’s the biggest and most twisted he’s ever seen.

“Okay, I can’t just stand around, I’ve got to make sure I really know what’s even and what’s not.” Dan huffs, shedding his jacket and climbing up onto the bed to straddle Michael’s hips. The angel doesn’t reply, but the red flush that creeps across his back says enough. 

He resumes his motions, now able to build a map in his head. The muscles around the wings are a bit of a mystery at first, but he learns quick enough. What he has noticed, in his strange brushes with divinity in his life, is that some celestials run different temperatures. Lucifer for example always ran almost feverish. Michael, though in the vicinity of human body temperature, still feels a little chilled beneath his touch.

Dan takes a moment to look just at the scar, and pales. It looks so recent. Realistically it must have happened literally billions of years ago. And yet, the angel lies before him with nearly a square eight inches of scar tissue in an uneven line dowm his shoulder and across the base of his right wing. He doesn’t think he’s noticed before now how high it starts, a tiny strand of white on the left side of his spine. It drags down in a wide swathe of bright red burnt whorls, carving so deep Dan can see the stark white of a few vertebrae and ribs under the skin.

Michael notices the staring.

“It’s a story I won’t tell yet.” he murmurs. Dan just nods in response.

“I won’t ever force you. Not that I could.” he adds. “But that’s on your own time. And some stuff just isn’t ever ready to be told. I won’t hold it against you. There’s a lot of stuff I keep to myself too.” he offers.

Michael nods, sighing deeply. “Angels aren’t sin-free, as most seem to think.”

“I’ve never thought that. I’d say most species aren’t sin free.” Dan laughs quietly, taking a moment to spread oil on his hands and let it warm. Michael pulls his arms up to pillow his head on them, and Dan takes a moment to shamelessly ogle the muscles in his back rippling. 

The first touch is hesitant, really just spreading the almond oil up the column of Michael’s slightly crooked spine. Nevertheless, the angel shivers with it. 

And then Dan really starts to work.

Drives his knuckles in deep to Michael’s lower back, presses his thumbs in as hard as he can when he works his way up the side of each vertebrae. He stops, startled, when the angel moans pornographically. Jesus, talk about sins.

Not wanting to make him feel awkward, though, he continues. He’s gentle, avoiding the scar as he can, but can’t help but notice a brutal set of knots around Michael’s spine about halfway down his back. “I can try to crack this.” he offers. Michael nods.

Dan sets the base of each of his hands in the correct positions, leans back, and forces his hands down quickly with steady and measured pressure. 

The answering crack is so loud that for a moment Dan’s afraid he broke something.

Michael groans so deeply it makes his torso rumble under Dan’s hands. “Holy shit.” he states.

Dan laughs. “That good, huh?” and carefully takes a second to reorient a few ruffled scapular feathers at the base of Michael’s wing. The angel shivers bodily.

“I haven’t taken very good care of my wings as of late, I must admit.” he mumbles, turning his head to the side so he can look at Dan over his shoulder.

“I can straighten them a little, if you want. It’s just almond oil, should actually help.” he offers.

Michael hides his face in the pillow again before he answers, which is just another one of those little tells Dan is getting the hang of reading. “If you’d like.”

“Both of them?” Dan clarifies quietly, and Michael nods. 

That affirmation, the admission of trust, makes Dan nervous. They’re still just... friends with benefits. They’ve got too much emotional baggage to have an actual relationship.   
He has to keep telling himself that.

The feathers are so damn soft.

Even in their raggedness, with some of them missing half their barbs. Some of the pins are split from not being taken care of, and Dan takes his time in freeing them.

“Do angels molt?” he asks offhandedly, smiling a little at the relaxed puddle Michael has become beneath him.

“Occasionally. There’s cycles that depend on the season on Earth, and then cycles of necessity when wings are damaged- oh fuck.” he moans.

Dan, pressing his thumbs into a tight muscle on the angel’s left wing, just grins. “I didn’t know this would work you up so much.” he grins, smug, and runs his hands down the arch toward Michael’s back.

He hits a rigid bump before he hits skin, and Michael keens and bucks like a bronco below him. It takes all of Dan’s reflexes just to stay seated on him.

“What was that!” Dan breathes, incredulous, and steels his grip before touching that same spot. Michael, indignant, manages to control his body this time.

Mostly. He shivers heavily. “That’s- ah. It makes oil to keep my feathers healthy. There’s one on each side.” he explains, and shudders again when Dan’s gentle fingers find the matching one on his right side.

“That’s kinda cool.” he mumbles, and marvels at the clear fluid on his fingers that is decidedly not almond oil. His hands dried from that a bit ago. “It didn’t hurt to touch, right?”

Michael laughs, outright laughs, for the first time in front of Dan. “I wouldn’t use that word, no.”

Emboldened, he presses his thumbs into those spots again and is rewarded with a deep groan and Michael arching beautifully below him. 

Dan rolls to his left side, pulling Michael with him. The sounds he makes are as shameless as they are sinful, and he finds as he gropes the front of too-expensive trousers that they’re both enjoying this.

But, really, Dan has been at least half hard since he straddled himself over that perfect ass when this all started. 

He grabs a handful of said ass, skillfully undoing Michael’s pants and impatiently shoving his damp boxers down.

Damp, because though Dan’s hand is slick the rigid flesh of Michael’s dick is somehow slicker. 

He arches with a breathy moan, and Dan already knows the angel’s not going to last. By the look and sound and the way he hitches forward helplessly into Dan’s hand, he’s been aching since today at the office.

Dan presses a rough bite to the junction of Michael’s neck and shoulder, and though the mark will never take the thought of it makes the immortal shiver nonetheless. He tightens his grip, twists his hand on the way up, and it’s over when Dan speaks.

“Come for me.” he purrs, voice low, and brings his free hand up to grip the joint of Michael’s good wing. 

Michael wails, bucking helplessly forward, coming in a mess all over Dan’s hand and the bedspread. It seems to last him forever before he melts again, shivering with the aftershocks of it ricocheting through his nerve endings.

“You’ve got to let me do this again sometime.” Dan chuckles breathlessly, content to just lay for a moment while Michael gets his bearings.

“Again.” he echoes, and turns his head slightly. “We should go on a date. This is getting ridiculous.” Michael decides.

It blindsides Dan, and he chokes on air for a moment. “I mean, yeah. We should.”

“Good. Glad we came to an understanding.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From little acorns grow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741893) by [thepoisonofgod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepoisonofgod/pseuds/thepoisonofgod)




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